John Raynerson enjoyed his evenings, he savored every moment. It was one of the few times the Raynerson household fell silent. It was one of the few times he could be alone with his thoughts, or share quiet conversation and a cup of tea with his wife, Beth. As he made his way down the hallway past the kid's rooms, he smiled as he heard the kettle on the stove start to whistle.
Becky Raynerson enjoyed her evenings too. It was one of the few times she could get lost in her books. Science, fiction, history; she loved it all. In Primary School, reading time was only a half an hour. But Becky could read all night if it wasn't for her flashlight losing power. The solar-powered battery never lasted very long. Becky averaged that she could get through eighty-three pages before the flashlight gave out, but tonight it was the history of Sailboats and her trusty light started flickering at page fifty-four. She slowly pulled the makeshift blanket tent off her head and observed her moonlit room. John Raynerson had made a deal with his daughter when she started to read; he'd buy her any book as long as she'd read it and tell him about it. Becky had taken full advantage of that deal and now surveyed the multitude of books strewn on her bedroom floor. As she gazed at them fondly she yawned, stretching her small hands to the sky and letting them flop to her sides. She could hear her mother and father talk softly in the kitchen underneath her bedroom, the sounds of their voices comforted her and she turned over in her bed. Suddenly a square of light drifted through her room, Becky saw headlights in the window, someone had pulled into the driveway.
Becky listened intently as she heard the sound of footsteps on gravel. A brief pause...two sharp knocks on the door...the soft scraping of the dining room chair being pushed away from the table...the rhythmic footsteps of her dad's slippers echoed off the hardwood floor.
Becky heard muffled voices from the doorway. She carefully swung one tiny leg out of bed, surveying the area below for a book-free spot of floor. Hands and knees, she made way across the room before dropping to the carpet, ear pressed against the door.
"Who did you say you were again?," John Raynerson asked incredulously. The man in question stood outside the front door in full combat armor, a blood red shoulder pad secured to his left side.
"Lieutenant Colonel Davar, Mr. Raynerson. You need to come with me immediately." Davar's face was impassive and he stared at John with cold unblinking eyes.
"Well, I really appreciate the invite Lieutenant, but my tea is just about done steeping and my wife would hate to see it go cold." John folded his arms, trying to look emphatic as possible in his blue-plaid pajama bottoms.
"I'm afraid the situation is more urgent than that, please grab your things." Davar's eyes narrowed, he really disliked dealing with civilians.
"I'm sorry Lieutenant, but I'm still trying to piece together why the hell a Raid Officer is at my house in the middle of the night."
By now, Becky had slowly opened her bedroom door every so slightly, just enough to see down the stairs to the front door. Her mouth hung absentmindedly open as she pressed her face to the gap in the door. The man outside looked scary. His dark bulky armor made him look unnaturally large, and the red shoulder pad glinted in the light from the entryway. Becky knew it meant something, but she wasn't sure what. The men continued bickering.
"And you expect me to just to leave my house knowing nothing?" John had now leaned up against the door pluckily, flexing his still crossed arms when he could.
"Mr. Raynerson there isn't much time to explain the sit-"
"But there is enough tea for three people," John replied, shooting a sheepish grin over his shoulder at his wife in the kitchen, she glared back.
Davar took a deep breath and tried to release his clenched fist. What he would give to be back at the wind farm, where no one questioned his authority.
Becky hastily closed her bedroom door as her father ushered the scary solider fellow into their home. She heard the clink of teacups as her mother got them out of the cupboard. The soldier's leather armor squeaked as he sat at the dining room table.
"Mr. Raynerson, the only reason I'm here is because your machine is endangering my raid tomorrow," Davar said bluntly.
John's eyebrows shot up. "My machine? The government is the one funding this project, I'm just a lowly medical engineer."
"I'd think "Lead Engineer" would suggest a little more than that John. Anyway, the government won't let me take it off base. Our raid tomorrow hits two encampments north of Maplewood, we'll be conducting sterility tests, and every other machine is off-site."
John's grip on his mug tightened. "That still doesn't explain why you're telling this to me over tea, past midnight, in my own home. The machines work fine Lieutenant. If anything didn't work, I would have received a maintenance ticket."
Her father's sudden change in tone made Becky's heart beat a little faster. She clung to the second-floor railing, lying prone outside her bedroom door, peeking over just enough to see her father's face tighten with concern.
"This is more than a technical problem Sir. We learned tonight that one of the girls tested during last month's Discovery was found pregnant in a West Side clinic."
John looked bewildered. "Well, congratulations?! Does she need a card from me? Lieutenant, I'm failing to see the-"
"The fertility test marked her as Barren. Your machine made a mistake John."
"That's impossible. That's quite impossible." John looked at Davar with wide-eyes. "My eldest daughter had her Discovery that same day."
Becky's eyes started to water. Sarah. Sweet Sarah. The thought of her sister hit her in the chest. She started shaking and before she could move her hand to muffle it, a small whimper escaped her mouth.
John followed the sound and locked eyes with his daughter, face still peeking out from atop of the stairs.
Davar stood up and turned towards Beth. "Ma'am I suggest you call your eldest daughter. John, please come with me."
John Raynerson enjoyed his evenings, he savored every moment. It was one of the few times the Raynerson household fell silent. It was one of the few times he could be alone with his thoughts, or share quiet conversation and a cup of tea with his wife, Beth. As he made his way down the hallway past the kid's rooms, he smiled as he heard the kettle on the stove start to whistle.
Becky Raynerson enjoyed her evenings too. It was one of the few times she could get lost in her books. Science, fiction, history; she loved it all. In Primary School, reading time was only a half an hour. But Becky could read all night if it wasn't for her flashlight losing power. The solar-powered battery never lasted very long. Becky averaged that she could get through eighty-three pages before the flashlight gave out, but tonight it was the history of Sailboats and her trusty light started flickering at page fifty-four. She slowly pulled the makeshift blanket tent off her head and observed her moonlit room. John Raynerson had made a deal with his daughter when she started to read; he'd buy her any book as long as she'd read it and tell him about it. Becky had taken full advantage of that deal and now surveyed the multitude of books strewn on her bedroom floor. As she gazed at them fondly she yawned, stretching her small hands to the sky and letting them flop to her sides. She could hear her mother and father talk softly in the kitchen underneath her bedroom, the sounds of their voices comforted her and she turned over in her bed. Suddenly a square of light drifted through her room, Becky saw headlights in the window, someone had pulled into the driveway.
Becky listened intently as she heard the sound of footsteps on gravel. A brief pause...two sharp knocks on the door...the soft scraping of the dining room chair being pushed away from the table...the rhythmic footsteps of her dad's slippers echoed off the hardwood floor.
Becky heard muffled voices from the doorway. She carefully swung one tiny leg out of bed, surveying the area below for a book-free spot of floor. Hands and knees, she made way across the room before dropping to the carpet, ear pressed against the door.
"Who did you say you were again?," John Raynerson asked incredulously. The man in question stood outside the front door in full combat armor, a blood red shoulder pad secured to his left side.
"Lieutenant Colonel Davar, Mr. Raynerson. You need to come with me immediately." Davar's face was impassive and he stared at John with cold unblinking eyes.
"Well, I really appreciate the invite Lieutenant, but my tea is just about done steeping and my wife would hate to see it go cold." John folded his arms, trying to look emphatic as possible in his blue-plaid pajama bottoms.
"I'm afraid the situation is more urgent than that, please grab your things." Davar's eyes narrowed, he really disliked dealing with civilians.
"I'm sorry Lieutenant, but I'm still trying to piece together why the hell a Raid Officer is at my house in the middle of the night."
By now, Becky had slowly opened her bedroom door every so slightly, just enough to see down the stairs to the front door. Her mouth hung absentmindedly open as she pressed her face to the gap in the door. The man outside looked scary. His dark bulky armor made him look unnaturally large, and the red shoulder pad glinted in the light from the entryway. Becky knew it meant something, but she wasn't sure what. The men continued bickering.
"And you expect me to just to leave my house knowing nothing?" John had now leaned up against the door pluckily, flexing his still crossed arms when he could.
"Mr. Raynerson there isn't much time to explain the sit-"
"But there is enough tea for three people," John replied, shooting a sheepish grin over his shoulder at his wife in the kitchen, she glared back.
Davar took a deep breath and tried to release his clenched fist. What he would give to be back at the wind farm, where no one questioned his authority.
Becky hastily closed her bedroom door as her father ushered the scary solider fellow into their home. She heard the clink of teacups as her mother got them out of the cupboard. The soldier's leather armor squeaked as he sat at the dining room table.
"Mr. Raynerson, the only reason I'm here is because your machine is endangering my raid tomorrow," Davar said bluntly.
John's eyebrows shot up. "My machine? The government is the one funding this project, I'm just a lowly medical engineer."
"I'd think "Lead Engineer" would suggest a little more than that John. Anyway, the government won't let me take it off base. Our raid tomorrow hits two encampments north of Maplewood, we'll be conducting sterility tests, and every other machine is off-site."
John's grip on his mug tightened. "That still doesn't explain why you're telling this to me over tea, past midnight, in my own home. The machines work fine Lieutenant. If anything didn't work, I would have received a maintenance ticket."
Her father's sudden change in tone made Becky's heart beat a little faster. She clung to the second-floor railing, lying prone outside her bedroom door, peeking over just enough to see her father's face tighten with concern.
"This is more than a technical problem Sir. We learned tonight that one of the girls tested during last month's Discovery was found pregnant in a West Side clinic."
John looked bewildered. "Well, congratulations?! Does she need a card from me? Lieutenant, I'm failing to see the-"
"The fertility test marked her as Barren. Your machine made a mistake John."
"That's impossible. That's quite impossible." John looked at Davar with wide-eyes. "My eldest daughter had her Discovery that same day."
Becky's eyes started to water. Sarah. Sweet Sarah. The thought of her sister hit her in the chest. She started shaking and before she could move her hand to muffle it, a small whimper escaped her mouth.
John followed the sound and locked eyes with his daughter, face still peeking out from atop of the stairs.
Davar stood up and turned towards Beth. "Ma'am I suggest you call your eldest daughter. John, please come with me."